Whispers of Sunlight
by XxIvan's-BritXx
Summary: Loneliness setting quickly and quietly; though nothing seems to earn Ivan any friendships. However, after an unfortunate accident at a World meeting, Russia finds himself clinging desperately to an unlikely fellow. Fear isn't present here and the larger male finds himself learning things from him as the days continue. I DO NOT OWN HETALIA [Russia, England]
1. Chapter 1 Storm

Chapter 1

Storm

Wind whipped against stone walls, snow splattering upon the structure like droplets of paint. Lights slowly went dim as the nearly invisible sun drifted behind the mountains, bidding the small town good night. Cacophonous symphonies of nature threw themselves at anyone who would listen as the storm raged on, bringing with is a sense of hopelessness.

A man, taller than most, trudged his way through the depths of snow, kicking his feet up slightly as he walked; the snow billowing behind him. Eyes like liquid amethyst burned into the sky, threatening anything in their path. Hair like molten silver flew about in the flurry, almost dancing in the air.

"Airport is so noisy…" The man's tan coat billowed behind him in the howling wind, the planes lined up on either side of him. Eyes darting about, his gloved fingers twitched over a metal object; said weapon clutched to his chest, vice like grip nearly bending the thick iron.

"SIR," A smaller male saluted him, a slight look of fear in his fawn colored eyes. "The planes will be running momentarily!" Smiling, the purple eyed giant tapped the faucet over the pilot's shoulder; a small gesture of impatience. Thick coats and pants made soft rustling noises as the brunette shook, his salute never faltering, but his eyes giving away his true fears.

"I am going to be late for World Meeting…" A sultry, Russian accent flowed from the silver haired man's mouth, childish giggle forcing its way past his lips. Terror gripped the younger man as he nodded, sweat coating the back of his hair. He knew the look his captain was giving him too well; it was a look of disappointment.

Disappointing this man was never good.

"They are getting warmed up, sir, they need time before the take off to ensure we do not crash, SIR!" The pilot never flinched, but his eyes were wide and his mouth parted slightly to let out concentrated gasps. The Russian looked him over with hungry eyes before lowering the pipe again, seeming to accept the explanation.

"We leave soon, then, da?" Smiling softly, innocence incarnate, the man sauntered off towards the plane. "Though, captain," He paused for a moment and glanced over his shoulder, smile still in place. "if I am disappointed again, I won't be so… lenient." With that, he boarded the plane and the smaller man let out a strangled gasp, pulling his coat closer to his body.


	2. Chapter 2 Just an Average Meeting

**OH HEY, LOOK, DISCLAIMERS, YEA?**

** I don't own Hetalia in any way shape or form.**

**Chapter 2**

**Just an Average Meeting**

Snow slowly gave way to rain as the Russian aircraft made its way to America. Sighing disdainfully, the man looked at his watch, clicking his tongue with impatience. It was already ten minutes past one p.m. Meaning he was late, by ten minutes.

"Someone is going to be a little upset with me…" He sighed once more, putting a gloved hand to his scarf and adjusting it, watching as the plane touched down in Washington D.C. "Is no matter," He smiled as he grabbed the metal pipe, dragging it along the cushioned seats inside of the airplane. "America will simply have to, ah… well." Giggling erupted from his throat as he imagined the blonde haired nation cringing under the weight of his weapon of choice.

"Russia, sir," A new pilot greeted him as he descended the stairs swiftly, his scarf flowing out behind him as his hair began to wilt under the heavy rain. This pilot was not of Russian decent, but rather American and it sent unpleasant shivers down the taller male's spine. If Russia didn't have better judgment, he would think that this man was mocking him.

"Ah, Privet, you are to show me where meeting room is, da?" Russia watched in satisfaction as the pilot grimaced. It was blatantly obvious that he did not enjoy the Russian's company. He saw it as a compliment, as he himself almost couldn't bear the thought of having to be shown around by this man.

The man simply nodded, his black and white suit fitting in perfectly with their surroundings. Russia followed closely behind the agent, watching as he turned the halls with ease. He must have been one of America's secret service agents. The halls were filled with pictures of America's previous bosses, each frame gaudier then the last. Russia scoffed at them before nearly running into his guide's back.

"Here you are, sir." The man opened the door for him, revealing a room in chaos. Men and women were jumping around and fighting each other; loud shouting never ceased and Russia could feel small prickles of a headache being born.

"Spasibo," He turned his head to look at the agent, but the door simply closed in his face, the ruckus ceasing as his presence was made known. A loud, irritating, obnoxious, and repugnant voice rose out of the silence and Russia had to grit his teeth in order to keep his smile in place. Boss always said, people like you better if you have a cheery smile.

"RUSSIA, DUDE! YOU ARE, LIKE, SO UBER LATE!" Silently walking and taking his seat he noticed two things. One, America was already at the podium and giving his speech for today's meeting. Two, he was stationed next to Lithuania and Latvia. At the second realization he smiled wider, getting into his chair. He was going to ignore America as long as humanely possible, just to see how quickly the man got irritated.

"Privet, Lithuania, how is it you are doing today?" He smiled at the brunette haired nation, the man's sparkling green eyes suddenly going dark. Stammering and shaking, Lithuania tried to come up with a response, but Russia could see very well how much terror he invoked in the other nation. Smiling, though almost sadly, he turned towards Latvia, realizing that the even smaller nation had disappeared from view; this caused the Russian to turn back towards the front of the room, opting instead to gaze out of the window towards the rain.

Several minutes passed and Russia could almost drown out the sound of the American's voice just to hear his own thoughts. He kept his smile in place, deciding that if he did, someone wouldn't be so terrified of him. Perhaps one day he could even make a friend who didn't cringe every time the superpower walked into a room. That thought had him smiling brighter and brought the attention of America.

"DUDE, like, what is up with you today?! You're nothing but smiles and it's creepy! You should totally stop!" The man, who was now in front of him for some reason, sent Russia's instinct off; electric blue eyes pierced his soul and wheat blonde hair bounced in an inhuman way. This man was always excited and simply buzzed from it. Russia hated him.

"I am smiling because I am thinking of all the way I am to break you, da?" He smiled widely before standing and showing off his height. It wasn't his fault the American put him on edge. He just wanted to show the smaller nation that he wasn't going to be taking any of his shit today.

"No thanks dude, but how did you like my presentation?! It was pretty cool, right? All of our goods and services we offer are pretty outrageous!" The million dollar smile on the young man's face made Russia's gut churn with the need to punch him. Knock some of his pretty white teeth out. America's eyes blinked up at him, a challenge hidden in their oceanic depths.

Russia was about to say something, but another country stole America's attention right away.

"Alfred! Quit wasting Russia's time with you nonsense and adjourn this meeting already! If you are going to be inconsiderate towards your guests, you are only going to make enemies! Is that what you want, you bloody wanker?" The voice belonged to an annoyed Arthur Kirkland. Russia glanced over to him, silently thanking the green eyed man before sitting back down in his chair. Sighing, but quietly, he put his smile back into place and waited before the meeting was finally over.

Lithuania and Latvia (where had he gone, was he hiding under the desk?) left as quickly as possible before Russia could even get out of his chair. He chuckled darkly and pulled at his scarf, tightening it slightly before turning and leaving the establishment.


	3. Chapter 3 Panic

**DISCLAMIER: I DON'T OWN HETALIA AT ALL**

**LET US BEGIN!**

**Chapter 3**

**Panic**

American soil always gave Russia disgusting feelings. He felt as though he were walking on eggshells; everyone stared at him wide eyed, their features never hiding their fear of his foreign looks. Russia blinked his eyes and smiled at a small child whom was giving him a look of pure curiosity. The child instantly began to weep and the violet eyed man nearly ran from the small being.

Feeling unsafe for whatever reason, Russia went to grip his faucet that he kept with him at all times. Gloved fingers itched to feel the cold metal, signifying his security and his place in power. This faucet had protected him for as long as he cared to remember; fighting off anyone who threatened him and anyone who dared to stand in his people's way. If something threatened Russia's people, he would become an unstoppable force as long as his weapon of choice was in his grasp.

The pipe was gone.

Feeling around his pockets, Russia could feel anxiety bubbling within his usually stable fortress. Eyes widening in panic, he sent out an aura of 'don't touch or talk to me' as he searched several times. His back stiffened with fear as he realized that his one form of protection was simply missing.

He thought quickly and calculatedly, trying to remember where he had last laid hands on his weapon. Thoughts of the plane bubbled to the surface and he nearly tripped over himself as he ran, the fear and feral-like way he moved scaring any sane person out of the way. Dashing quickly up the steps to the stationary aircraft, Russia felt his breath coming in gasps.

He searched the entire vehicle before giving up on this location. Perhaps it was somewhere else? Thinking quickly, Russia recalled everything after the plane ride; sitting on the vinyl chairs, getting up and gripping the pipe warily, walking down the steps and being greeted by an officer. The pipe may be in the office where the meeting took place. With every country in the world; including those who would rather not see him around any longer.

With a heavy sigh, the Russian stepped off the plane and began retracing the corridors; searching for the meeting room with a heavy heart. There wasn't a possibility of it still being underneath the desk; not when Latvia had been under there as well. Perhaps the smaller nation had taken it back to his house for him? Were they not friends who would do things like this for each other?

Russia hung his head sadly. No, he and Latvia weren't friends. Sure, they lived under the same roof for a very long time; but Russia may have been a little… rough around the edges. It wasn't his idea to suddenly start throwing insults about his attire around like they were a juggler's playthings!

The pipe was not here either, just as he expected. With a sigh and a shudder, the silver haired man examined the room more thoroughly; noting how all the flags of the world adorned the walls. Walls that were made of a lovely cherry would color; pillars formed from the same wood and supported the room. The floors were a lovely shade of red carpeting, complementing the desks of darker oak wood. The only thing wrong with the room was the overly compensating American flag hanging over everyone's heads as a reminder to whose country they were in; because they needed the reminder.

Russia thought hard and placed a gloved hand on his desk to settle himself. Maybe someone had it who DIDN'T want him dead. Always think positively, da? Suddenly a loud burst of energy exploded into the room, leaving Russia gasping for air and grasping at his heart.

"RUSSIA, I THOUGHT YOU LEFT HOMIE!" Oh… it was him again. Russia sighed heavily before a thought occurred to him; sending him in a near fit of rage. Of course, America would be the one to have his most precious belonging.

"You are to return what you have taken!" Russia spat angrily, like a mountain lion hissing at a bear. He felt his old habits rising as an unnatural purple aura appeared like a vapor. The American man's smile faltered for a second before he started laughing like the idiot he was.

"What are you going on about, man?! Have you lost something? Did you try backtracking and looking, oh I dunno, in your own freakin' country?!" Russia smacked his hand across America's mouth. He couldn't handle it anymore; he just needed the loudness to stop existing, if even for the tiniest of moments. If America didn't have the pipe, Russia would eat dirt!

"You are to return my pipe to me this instant, filth!" Russia slammed his foot down on the blonde's foot, making him shout out and trip over himself. Glowering and raising his foot, Russia stepped on America's back, not allowing the other man to get off the floor. "Give to me!"

"I don't have your freakin' pipe! Lay off! I said lay off!" America glanced up at the crazed man above him with a slightly panicked expression. Russia sighed and felt his chest deflate. Making a small noise of distaste, the Russian quickly left the office, ran out of the building, and boarded his plane. He sat down on the black vinyl chair and waited, head throbbing, until his idiot of a pilot got back from whatever it was he was doing.

Russia didn't care who had it; he just needed it back.


	4. Chapter 4 Thank You?

DISCLAIMER: I STILL DON'T OWN HETALIA

**Chapter 4**

**Thank you…?**

Russia felt exhausted. His hair hung down his face as dark circles accented his violet eyes; making him appear more terrifying to most. He was just tired… Life was difficult when in a constant state of fear.

Being without his faucet, Russia had nearly stopped everything. Production of nearly everything slowed to a snail's pace due to his lack of sleep. Military training was non-existent due to the fact that Russia was still missing his guardian object. The country and its persona were falling apart; it was only a matter of time before someone took advantage of that fact.

Because of this small detail, Russia himself had to run from country to country, nearly falling at their doorsteps in a panicked haze. He would babble a few words and be sent on his way; receiving strange looks. He had been to all of the Baltics… each one had threatened him on their entrance ways before he could speak. He had been to China; nearly scaring the shorter man to death by tripping and destroying the man's fine plates and cups. Russia had even dragged himself to Germany's home; nearly begging the blonde man to shut up his small companion for one second to see if the cerulean eyed soldier had picked anything up.

There was nothing to tell.

Nearly two weeks had gone by at this point; leaving the silver haired Russian as a mess of emotions inside himself. Outside; he appeared as though he would murder anything that touched him. Shaking violently, he decided to make his way across the open waters to England; though he didn't hold much hope.

Russia and England hardly ever had communication. The scarfed man pulled said article tight as he walked along the dirty streets of London; where the sunny blonde's main home was located. The slightest breeze shook the Russian to his core, sending him in a fit of coughing. If he didn't end this search soon, and return to his people, he might be in a quite a bit of trouble.

Glancing around, the Russian noticed something; the sun was shining brightly, despite the country's infamous ability to almost always be raining. Sighing for a moment, he looked through the trees lining either side of the road, watching as small leaves flew around in the tiny gusts of gentle wind. It almost looked peaceful, and Russia would have enjoyed the smell of roses on the air if he wasn't in so much mental pain.

"Oi, what the bloody Hell are you doing here?"

Russia turned around to find Arthur staring at him as if he'd committed a crime. In reality, he might have; crossing the border without warning. He mumbled an apology before glancing down to the fiery tempered soul and preparing his speech once again.

"Privet… England…" Talking was difficult nowadays; so was trying to be nice. "I have been to almost every place I could think… and now I've ended up here." He closed his eyes tiredly, waiting for another verbal scolding from yet another person that wanted anything but his presence in their home.

"Ah, yes, I suppose you are looking for this? I-"

"CHTO?!" Russia snapped his eyes open as Arthur grabbed his weapon from inside of his pea coat. The metal looked as if it had been polished; glinting in the odd sunlight like it was welcoming an old friend. Gingerly, Russia took the metal pipe from the country's hands, his breathing stilled and careful as he caressed the object with his own gloved appendages. Surely… surely if Arthur had taken it, then he wanted it for selfish reasons. But then why give it back?

Russia glanced back to the Englishman, feeling the energy rush back into his muscles just from holding the weapon. Production and training could continue now; now that Russia was whole once more. Yet; there was something about the way this smaller male held himself in the Russian's presence.

"Why is it… that you who are having my belongings?" Russia had intended for the words to be threatening, but they came out as more of an awestruck question. "You are realizing I am only going to beat America over head with pipe?" There; that sounded more like his usual self. He smiled for the first time in a good many days. It felt amazing simply feeling complete.

"Knock yourself out old chap; I don't care much for the lad anyway." The Brit began to walk away, waving behind his head at the man. Taken aback, the taller man rushed after the blonde, eyes wide with astonishment.

"You are not caring if I kill your child nation?" He fell into step beside the gentleman; tucking his beautiful weapon under his coat. Why had England cleaned it?

"I am simply calling your bluff. Are you following me?" Sharp emerald eyes snapped to amethyst, making the Russian freeze. Where had that intensity come from? Arthur must have no sense of self awareness.

"You have not answered my question, da? Why are you having pipe?" He felt flustered. Why did Arthur make him frustrated? Was it because he spoke to him as if he weren't a threat? Maybe Arthur was the threat? He shook his head; no, England was no threat to Russia.

"I believe it was a folly of your own, you were the one who stormed out of the meeting room and left it there. I was simply going to return it when I saw you at the next meeting. There, is that better?" Russia could only feel confused as the man continued to talk. He had grabbed the weapon and kept it safe only to return it to him later. This didn't make sense.

"If what you are saying is true…" Russia trailed off; studying the way England's hypnotizing gaze kept flickering over to him as they walked. "If you are telling truth, then I suppose I am to thank you…" He furrowed his brow. How did one go about thanking people? Would helping them suffice as payment enough?

"It's no problem; really. I suppose you'll head back over to your country now that you've got what you came for?" Was Arthur really voicing disappointment or was Russia hearing things? He shook his head slightly. Moreover, why was it that he wanted to stay?

"If you are not minding… I would like to accompany you. This is acceptable?" The man smiled up at Russia and caused the large man to blink rapidly. Arthur's face lit up at that moment, the sun beaming off his milky white skin, his hair giving off a soft glow of gold in the rays of light. Emerald pools swam with delight and Russia felt his voice fail him. Who was this man of sunshine and warmth?

"I would enjoy that very much, Ivan."

What?


	5. Chapter 5 Secret

**Disclaimer: Hetalia isn't mine**

**Chapter 5**

**Secret**

"Where is it we are going?" Russia's voice felt strained as he attempted to comprehend the being walking ahead of him. His eyes played tricks on him as they kept seeing sunshine dance off the man's hair as he walked; their leisurely pace not something he was used to. Rushing everywhere was the way Russia did things; there was always somewhere to be and someone to see.

Casting his green eyes back at the Russian, which was more of a side glance due to the scarfed man's height, Arthur spoke clearly and confidently, gesturing his hands as if he couldn't care who his companion was. Russia was very perplexed.

"I'm just off on a stroll really; I hadn't expected to run into someone of my stature at all. I was told by a certain blonde that I spend too much time indoors anyway." Russia glowered at the mention of the capitalist country.

"Is not like he is your boss; if you are wanting to stay inside then do this. He is not coming to enforce daylight activities, da?" A light chuckle came from the Englishman and Russia found himself trapped in his cat like orbs once more. The thought of America enforcing anything must have been funny to him. Russia just frowned; remembering the Cold War with a shiver.

The odd pair continued walking down the street, Russia slightly behind England and taking in the dreary scenery. The odd sunlight caught his attention once more; offering some sort of end to the awkward silence between them. Silently sighing, the Russian spoke as though it was natural.

"Is good day for walking, this weather is odd for your country is it not? The amount of sunlight today is… ah… is good fortune?" He gritted his teeth together tightly, making a pained face. Why was simple speaking so difficult?

A sigh escaped from the blonde and drew Ivan's attention. A slight smile had appeared on Arthur's face and the taller man felt his eyes widen as his frown deepened. He needed to figure out what this barrage of emotions was called and how to deal with them quickly.

"The weather is rather nice isn't it…?" The smaller man sounded almost wistful as he walked forward; his arms folding around himself as a wind brought the smell of roses to their beings. Arthur was letting the wind hit his face head on, seeming to enjoy the air. Ivan shoved his nose down into the scarf. "Not every day we get sun like this, it truly is a blessing."

The Russian watched the Englishman closely from his scarf; amethyst eyes trained on the back of his head. What was going on in that brain of his? Did he really mean that he wanted Ivan's company or was that just another bluff from the usually grumpy man? Perhaps he was simply a very good actor and put up with Russia's company as long as he had to before the man would leave.

Nodding lightly, agreeing with that revelation, the Russian began to pay more attention to the street around him; the buildings that seemed to bring the term "city living" to its full potential. Small shops lined the street, some for pies and others for jewelry. A record store sat in between a small bistro and a dance hall. The colors seemed to blend together, creating something that appeared very bland at a glance.

"So, how are you, Russia? I don't get to speak with you very often; Alfred always being too noisy to even pay attention to anyone else you know." Ah. How had he been? Worrying about the whereabouts of his weapon had been a near hellish experience, but people didn't say they felt anxious when asked this question. He simply decided to go with the normal response and remain neutral.

"I am fine."

The Brit cocked a prominent brow, but didn't press the issue. Instead he opted to ask small, hopefully conversation starting questions. Russia would have laughed, but the reality was that he _wanted_ to hold a conversation with this man. He simply didn't know how.

"Do you get any sunny days up in the fortress of snow and ice?" Oh, this question was strange. Of course he got sunny days, but the weather always remained cold. The snow _almost_ never melted, but nothing substantial could be grown before the frost began to seep back into the soil. So, Russia was cold, was that the right answer?

Shrugging softly, he felt his scarf tighten up slightly. "Is simply cold in homeland; nothing too different other than this. Snow storms this time of year always make it seem worse." There, truthfully answered question. He smiled to himself; conversing was easy!

"I see." Why did he sound upset? Russia peeked down at Arthur, curiosity blooming in his chest. The man was smiling, though. How could someone be smiling and yet look so sad? Suddenly, the Brit looked up at him and Russia felt his chest squeeze painfully.

"Is it hard for you…?"

Where had all that _concern_ burst from?! Russia found himself babbling like a confused idiot in his mind, the gears whirring and clanking while they attempted a response to the emerald eyes nation's question. They had stopped walking and were simply staring at each other, Arthur's eyes glistening with worry while Ivan's were wide with confusion and shock.

"Sometimes…" Russia found his voice was betraying him as it cracked under the pressure. "Sometimes it gets lonely I am supposing. But I am such a busy person I hardly have time to feel it, da?" He couldn't lie to those eyes. Not when they held so much concern and worry. The words tumbled out of their own accord at this point and Ivan could feel his face heating as he continued.

"It is not as if I am feeling lonely," Shutting his eyes, Ivan could still feel a shamrock gaze burning into his flesh. "It is simply that the cold and the dark and the biting wind do not offer companionship, yes? They are like friends, but they are also like wolves and do not offer warmth of comrades…"

After the confession, Russia let his glowing eyes slip open a small fraction to glare at the offending person. Jeweled eyes were wide and out of focus as Arthur took in his demeanor and put on a soft smile. Slowly letting his heart rate settle, the silver haired giant crossed his arms over his chest protectively. He began walking quickly down the street, heat rising to his face. What was that heat? Russia hated it.

"Wait, are you just going to leave like that? I daresay I think not, sir!" Glancing back, the Russian allowed himself to be followed by a frantic British man, turning himself away when he fell into step beside him. If he really wanted to leave, he would have a long time ago.

"I am not leaving… I am simply allowing breathing room, da?" He felt a frown tug at his lips and forced them into his signature smile. Frowning was ugly and no one wanted to see it on his face anyway. He heard a small laugh and turned towards the giggling nation, eyes wide. "Chto?"

"I know a way to make you chipper again. Come, we'll go to a florist, I'll lead the way." Russia uncrossed his arms and followed the man curiously. Why were they going to a florist? Unless…

"England, why are we going to florist? You aren't having enough plants as it is with infamous rose garden?" He hadn't _meant_ for it to sound like an insult, but both America and France had mentioned the sheer size of England's garden and it sounded greatly over thought. If it was as large as he had heard, why did Arthur need to add to it?

Those damn eyes sparkled mischievously before he responded. It was as if he knew a secret and Ivan dreaded what it was the Englishman knew. Perhaps it was such a secret that was in violation of Russia's code of conduct and he was planning on overthrowing the Russian man with it?

"I think I will buy more roses, but we're getting you some sunflowers, Ivan. I know how you love them so much."

Russia stopped breathing and tripped over his own feet. Why in the world did Arthur know _that_ of all things? And furthermore, why did he _care?_

"When did you find this fact…? I was not aware you cared so much for my opinion…" Russia's voice was very small as heat pooled in his cheeks once again. He couldn't care less about the heat; he just wanted to know Arthur's answer. He couldn't imagine the British man's want to purchase him sunflowers at all. Though, the thought was far from unpleasant and left a rather warm feeling in his chest…

"Of course I care, we're friends aren't we?"

Russia blinked in response, pausing slightly before jogging up to the man's side once more.

"….D-Da…?"


	6. Chapter 6 Sunflowers

**Disclaimers n stuff: Hetalia is not mine.**

**Chapter 6**

**Sunflowers**

Russia continued to play with his scarf for what felt like the fifteenth time in the last ten minutes. How did one go about friendship? Being friends with England was something he wasn't aware of and the fact that the British man had kept it a secret all these years slightly agitated him.

Was he angry with the Brit? Absolutely not; he was mad at himself as a being. How dare he not recognize the fact that they were friends; it would have made this entire situation that much simpler.

So now they were walking towards a flower shop, _a flower shop_. England was going to buy Russia some flowers; but not just any flowers oh no. Arthur was going to a flower shop with Russia and he was buying him _sunflowers._

Ivan was very confused; but he didn't question the male's antics anymore. The man obviously did what he thought was best for the situation; be it yelling at America or showing Russia a kindness. Really, it was two sides of a coin with this sunny blonde haired man.

"Whew, that sun really is shining brightly isn't it!" Arthur wiped his brow and sent an amused look to Russia's wardrobe, Ivan tugging on his scarf with nervousness. He wasn't as warm as the Brit appeared to be.

"I am enjoying sunshine… is reasoning behind my liking of podsolnechnik, da? Ah, that is, sunflower in home language. Plant is reminding me of warmer times and what is beneath ice and snow. When they go away, is warm enough for short period of time." He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest; eyeing the other warily.

"Do you have anyone at all that keeps you company? Perhaps the Baltics visit from time to time, since they are so used to your, ah, rather harsh climate? Or maybe your sister visit frequently; mine never do." Russia knew he was just trying to make small conversation again and he truly admired the nation for his efforts.

"Ah… is long story with Baltics. They fear me like everyone else, yes? They do not like to spend prolonged period of time around my homeland or my person. Is because I am so tall, da?" Russia smiled brightly (creepily…?) and noticed a summerly decorated shop on the horizon. "As for sisters… Katsyusha's boss has forbidden her to see me once again. As for Natalya… ah…" Russia felt himself shiver as a shot of cold racked up his spinal column.

Arthur simply smiled as their destination rolled into view. The top simply read "_Florist" _and the two nations contemplated the scenery painted on the outside walls. White roses with golden petals and vines adorned white brick walls. The entire establishment seemed very gaudy in nature.

"I'm not afraid of you." With that world halting statement, the man simply waltzed into the shop, leaving a gaping Russian standing outside; angrily staring at the walls. Everything stopped before the statement really sunk in and Ivan began to be overcome by a slight thrill.

"You aren't afraid of me…?" Russia spoke to thin air before barging into the shop. "You are not afraid o-"

The inside of the shop was wonderfully beautiful. Plants of every kind were growing inside the green house like room; roses grew in bushels along the edges of the walls and petunias hugged the underside of tables. Daffodils climbed up walls while lilies swayed in the slight breeze of Ivan bursting through the door. In the far corner, Russia could see what they had come for.

The sunflowers were standing in a corner of the room, some of them nearly over taking the man's height. Others were like their children, four feet tall sprouts that were barely half a year old. The Russian felt his heart squirm at the sight of all the variations of his flowers, not ever finishing his thought.

He walked over to the flowers and stood next to an amused Englishman, not paying him any mind until he cleared his throat. Twinkling amethyst eyes flickered over to him, taking in his position. Arthur stood next to the sunflowers, watching Ivan kindly. Said Russian's gaze flipped back and forth between the flowers and the man; back and forth.

"I believe I wouldn't give crucial weapons to people I was afraid of, that would be rather silly wouldn't it…?" Arthur spoke in hushed tones and Ivan could feel his frown loosen up, a tiny twitch of a smile playing at his lips. Was this what it felt like to not have to force a smile on your face?

Russia picked up one of the smaller sunflowers and lightly brushed gloved fingers against the petals, listening to the viridian eyed man whole heartedly, his focus still reaching between the two. He brought the object to his face and smelled with a far-away look in his eyes. That was his favorite smell in the world.

"You know, if you would like to…" Arthur paused for a minute, glancing at Russia with an uncertain gaze and biting his lip. Oh, now the man decided to be nervous. Ivan felt his chin recede into the scarf. "If you would like, I could also buy you some seeds… you could start your own sunflower patch. That way, whenever you felt like you were alone, you could simply do a bit of gardening… it's what I do."

Ivan felt his mouth fall open at the thought of his own garden. It would be wonderful to have so many sunflowers to talk to and share things with, something who wouldn't judge him for his most internal thoughts. But, thoughts of the soil in his home were thrashed away by snow and ice. He would just plant the flowers, only for them to be ripped apart by another force of nature.

"As much as I would enjoy that very much… I would take these precious things home to plant and they would immediately die. I… do not believe I am able to stomach this, da?" Russia's face fell into a small saddened state. "Spasibo, Arthur; but today I will simply be sunflower gazing, yes?"

Arthur bit his lip and looked around, causing Russia to tilt his head. Why was the emerald eyed nation suddenly acting like a frightened bunny? Shrugging slightly, Russia played with the leaves of the smaller plant in his hands; before England decided to speak again.

"I-if you would like to…" Purple eyes flitted up to the gentleman, going wide as they saw red dusted cheeks and his hands clasped tightly behind his back. He felt his eyebrows slide upwards on his forehead. "If you would like, we could buy some of these here and plant them in _my_ garden…" Russia knew he was openly staring now. The Englishman quickly began babbling when he noticed the look Ivan was giving him.

"What I mean to say is that we could buy the seeds here and plant them… you could visit me every so often and check them over; I would take care of them while you were gone of course, but I wouldn't mind the company… I do like visitors, believe it or not. That is… if you were so inclined…" Arthur's gaze was fixed on everything but Ivan, panicked jewels fluttering about. Russia could only feel his heart thudding wildly at the thoughts the smaller male was putting in his mind.

One, Arthur had just asked him to visit every so often, because he wanted Russia's company. Two, he offered a place in his prized garden for Ivan to create something wonderful, together; as in, not alone. Three, Arthur had said earlier that he wasn't afraid of him, but _something_ was making the blonde act this way; probably the same thing that made his chest constrict painfully.

"You would allow me to place something so permanent in your home…?" He had to make sure the Englishman wasn't joking around on him. Ivan had to give the man a second thought before thrusting something like this onto him. Russia needed him to be certain of this.

Arthur nodded, finally allowing his gaze to fly back to the taller nation.

"I rather enjoy flowers… they would make a lovely addition to my garden."

Russia felt that tug on his lips again, not really letting it slip.

"I would like to see your garden… Is sounding like wonderful place to be."

"I would be more than happy to show it to you, especially if you'd consider letting me buy these for you." He flashed a brilliant smile at the Russian; nothing similar to a certain spectacled nation. Ivan looked down to the foliage in his palms and back up at Arthur, squinting his eyes and letting out a laughing bark.

Arthur jumped and looked worried for a moment before seeing Ivan smiling. The man held up the plant gingerly, placing it close to the Englishman's face. Russia felt happier than he had been in a while, staring at Arthur in awe.

"This one is matching your hair color… and green eyes. It is as if you _are _a podsolnechnik, Arthur!" Russia felt bubbling laughter ignite his throat and he snickered, letting his hand fall, clutching onto the plant. England smiled softly and glanced up at the plants, eyes twinkling.

"Thank you… perhaps if I were slightly taller…" Russia watched the nation laugh quietly, his eyes falling closed and his hands fidgeting with his clothes. He felt a stirring at that whispered chuckle, eyes closing of their own accord and he thrust his face to the side.

Arthur standing next to the sunflowers and laughing like that was too much to bear.


	7. Chapter 7 Compliments

**Disclaimers…? I don't own the Hetalia.**

**Thank you all for the wonderful things you're saying to this story ^/^**

**I apologize sincerely for the lack of updates… I was lacking motivation to do anything but draw. But here is now, yes!?**

**Chapter 7**

**Compliments**

Ivan watched Arthur closely from that moment on. Every little thing the man did was confusing. He rocked back and forth on his heels; he hid his gaze from Ivan's constantly, and a curious color was ever present on the blonde's face. It wasn't an unpleasant color, but he didn't know what to compare it to; neither did he know the reason that it lit up like that every so often.

The odd pair walked around the shop until England stopped to peer at the seeds, crouching down and peering at the rose packets, tapping his fingers on his chin. Russia tilted his head slightly to the side, his sunflower still sitting easily in his palm.

"You like roses, da?" He pondered this, cataloguing the information away for when he needed to buy a gift for his new friend. Arthur nodded, smiling at nothing in particular and thumbing through several different types of seeds.

"Roses are my favorite flower, indeed. I like them because they come in so many different colors. They are a rather versatile species." He spoke about the plants as if they were a science project, but the way he tenderly touched the seedlings one would think he thought of the plants as his own children. Russia crouched down next to him, looking at the packets himself, watching to see which one Arthur would pick out.

"And what is your favorite color…?" The Russian just wanted to know, again, for future reference. The nation hummed a bit before choosing two separate packets, looking between them and holding them up to his face.

"White roses… and purple I suppose. They complement the others very nicely." Russia could only describe Arthur's look as sly. He eyed the Russian like a fox, his soft smile having an edge to it. Ivan held his breath and leaned away from the green clad man, expecting some sort of judgment to pass.

"You know, they kind of match your hair and eyes…" Russia should've laughed it off; Arthur bringing his own words back around to him. He should have punched England for comparing him to flowers. But, no, instead of doing either of these, Ivan chose to let his face heat up and he quickly left Arthur's side.

"Oh, look, here are sunflower seeds; I will look for good ones." He stumbled away and towards the seeds, not really paying attention to which ones he was looking at. Ivan couldn't stop sneaking small glances over to him, peeking from around his scarf. How does one process compliments?

Looking in front of him; Russia could tell there were several different kinds of sunflowers to choose from. Glance… no, focus. Sunflowers could range anywhere from the Buttercream sunflower to the Giant Russian sunflower. He chuckled to himself and glanced towards… no, stop that! Ivan shook his head, pulling the Buttercream variety off the shelf and compared the coloring to a certain Brit. He would get these. Putting the seeds next the Russian ones, they complemented one another. He shrugged to himself and pulled the other packet off the shelf. A voice was heard just beside him.

"I'm ready when you are." Russia felt his skin crawl with the need to be startled; he didn't let himself of course, but the urge was there. Something he couldn't control was his voice; apparently it didn't get over the shock.

"I-I am ready." He shook his head slightly; England smiled his soft smile that was apparently a secret because the Russian had only ever seen it here, in this strange enlightening moment they were sharing. "I have two different k-kinds, is okay, da?" He cursed himself.

"That's fine, I believe I've bought too many…" He held up five or six different colors of rose seeds, chuckling to himself before cocking his head to the side and studying Ivan. Said Russian refused to acknowledge the need to turn away from that burning gaze.

"Are you alright?"

Oh, if only he were alright. If only he weren't a mess of confusion. If only his face would stop doing the annoying heating that was taking place right now!

"I am fine!" Ivan felt the heat only get worse as he struggled for the right words to say. Apparently the old cliché wasn't enough this time as Arthur's eyebrow rose up in question Damn it. "…No one," Ivan's throat felt like it was stuck together and he attempted to swallow the words trying to climb out of it, without success. "Ah… no one has ever told me they enjoyed something about me before… I do not… I do not know how to…"

Finally his voice simply died where it was. He opted instead to hide his mouth in his scarf where it wouldn't betray him any longer. His fingers laced the bottom of said article of clothing as his gaze shifted somewhere else. Why was that sentence so hard to spit out? If it didn't want to be said, it should've stayed where it was supposed to!

"Don't know how to handle complements?" And then there was Arthur, suddenly a mind reader. Russia frowned to himself. "It's alright, I know the feeling. Come on, let's pay for these and head over to the garden." He smiled and turned, walking towards the front of the shop. Russia frowned even more at the Englishman understanding his feelings. These weren't necessarily nice feelings; he didn't wish them to anyone but himself. He didn't want Arthur to be able to understand the loneliness and confusion welling up inside his own chest.

Ivan placed his things on the counter and watched the Brit converse with the young cashier. She giggled at the blonde, sending wary glances to the silent Russian. These looks, he was used to. She was afraid of him, but because someone else was there with him, she could focus on something else. He knew how to process these looks, knew how to ignore them. It offered a slight comfort from the confusing day he was having, but it also stung slightly. Someone in Great Britain was afraid, and in a small way; that meant Arthur had a piece of himself that was wary of Russia. Of course; Ivan was a large man clad in a trench coat and a scarf in the middle of summer on an island nation, people were bound to question his sanity. He inwardly shrugged as she finished her job. It was all part of being a nation.

"Alright, are you ready?" Arthur cast his gaze upon Ivan, handing him his things. Gloved fingers took the sunflower gratefully; the packets of seeds placed in a small bag. Nodding, he pulled the plat close to his chest, smiling down at it.

"Da, I am ready. I will follow you, Arthur." The blonde nation nodded, walking out of the store and down the path; leading to England's London home. The pair of them walked side by side; receiving several glances of different natures; several were curious, others were fearful of the giant walking among them; still others were confused by Ivan's choice of wardrobe. It was alright, Ivan didn't pay them any attention.

He was too busy glancing at his sunflowers.


	8. Chapter 8 Garden

**Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine, da?**

**I have heard I need to make chapters longer. I will try my best, but updates will be longer… My work varies in its shift so I am not having much time to write. **

**Patience is a virtue, yes?**

**Chapter 8 **

**Garden**

Arthur was gesturing to buildings around them, speaking fondly and stealing swift glances to Russia to see his reaction. Ivan would nod his head and appear interested. This pleased the blonde man and he would flash a smile to the Russian and he would continue excitedly. Russia turned it into a small game. How many times could Ivan get that smile out of the man in this walk?

Apparently the answer was 27, because they came to an abrupt halt in front of a smaller home of sorts. England placed his hands on his hips and gestured to the building with his head. His eyes glimmered with excitement. Ivan decided that he would invest in emeralds.

"This is home. Welcome to London!" He waved his hand and gave a small bow; Ivan studying the building more closely. Stone masonry held the whole thing up, its windows shaped evenly into four quadrants. A large black metal fence surrounded the home, vegetation growing around it. The roof was tiled black, a small chimney jutting out of the top, giving it a sort of nostalgic feel to it. Ivan felt that tugging at his face, enjoying the modestly built home. For some reason he wasn't expecting something like this; the building however suited Arthur well.

"Your home is very small," Ivan wanted to catch the words mid-air and eat them. Arthur puffed up like a cactus at the accusation, even if it hadn't meant to be one. Ivan panicked internally. This was very difficult. "I am meaning is unexpected!" He fumbled more words, trying to right the wrong. "Is a very small home, but is not bad thing, da? Is very good home, smells sweet like growing things and is very pleasing to the eye. I enjoy it." Russia sighed, his head drooping. He couldn't do this at all. Thinking before you speak is now on the top of his bucket list.

Arthur deflated at the sight of Ivan struggling to put his thoughts into words. He snickered and Ivan's eyes shot to him, frowning greatly. Great, now the smaller nation was laughing at his foolishness. Why was he still here again?

"Ah, thank you…" The Brit opened the gate and gestured for the large nation to enter the grassy area. Ivan clutched his flower close and walked through what seemed like a barrier. One second he was outside looking into something beautiful and the next he was walking through grass and trees and flowers. Dragonflies filled the air, dancing with butterflies and filling the air with the sounds of life. The stone house welcomed Ivan as if he were being embraced by a long lost grandmother of sorts and he felt contentment fill his being.

Arthur seemed to sense this change in Ivan's mood and he let his smile soften, letting his home affect him in a similar way. Russia made note of how calm everything seemed in this light, enjoying the peace. He glanced around the home, taking in everything he could from the front door, Arthur disappearing behind one of the walls after removing his shoes. A shout was heard from the kitchen.

"Ivan, are you hungry or thirsty at all?" Russia blinked, still getting used to being openly called Ivan and not his country's name. He supposed it was rather warm outside as his throat clenched together painfully. He still stood awkwardly by the door, shouting back to the other man.

"Er… Da; is very hot outside. I am thinking a drink is preferred." He played with the leaves on his sunflower, sniffing at it once more. He really did enjoy the smell…

Arthur's face came into view around the corner. His brows furrowed together and a concentrated frown on his face. Ivan stiffened under the gaze, had he done something wrong?

"Unfortunately all I have at the moment is cold tea, milk, or water. Do any of those sound good to you?" Sound good? Oh, if one was better than the other. Ivan nodded, edging his face up and over the scarf.

"Da, cold tea is fine." Ivan saw England nod and he disappeared back into the kitchen. He decided to remove his boots and step inside, glancing around and taking in the inside of England's home. Despite it being like a fairy tale outside, the inside of the house was particularly modern. One hallway reached towards two black doors, along shaded green walls. A couch positioned itself in the center of the front room, black table sitting in front of it. Unlike most homes however, there wasn't a television in the main area. Instead, there were bookshelves filled to the brim of several different genres. Ivan could only read a few of the titles before the smaller man came back into the front room, carrying two glasses of a light brown liquid.

"Spasibo, England." Ivan gratefully took the beverage from Arthur and sipped at it, the bitter substance quenching his thirst nicely. He cleared his throat and took another drink. Cold tea was easily palatable, he decided. Arthur seemed to watch him carefully before nodding to himself and walking away. Ivan raised his eyebrow at the other, setting his now empty glass down on the table in front of him.

England seemed to fidget for a second before glancing down at himself and shaking his head. He walked over to the black door to the right and paused. He seemed to hesitate before smiling to himself.

"I'm going to change into something less… dressy, so that I can work in the garden. Will you be alright by yourself out here for a minute?" He sent a questioning gaze towards Ivan, whom stood there and stared for a moment. He huffed and shuffled his feet, looking down on himself. Was he too dressed to work in a garden as well?

"Ah… I do not…" He felt himself stutter again. Why couldn't he form coherent words!? "I will wait for you, da?"

"Alright…" Arthur paused for a moment, Ivan's mouth forming a straight line while he was being pondered at. Maybe he was dressed too strangely…

"Feel free to take some of that off; you'll get too warm out there in all that." And with that, the man disappeared behind the portal of black oak wood. Ivan felt his face heat up at the man's statement. Arthur wanted him to take off his outer layer of clothing; that much was obvious. Arthur cared that he would get too warm working in the sun; that much was unsettling.

But the fact that Arthur wanted him to undress at all was simply too foreign, too different, too _odd._ He never took off his clothes unless he was about to go to sleep. They were like a permanent protection from everything that was harmful.

"Take… Take off?" Ivan mumbled under his breath, bracing himself before reaching for the clasp on his coat. Should he really be so trusting of England, no should he trust _Arthur_ this much? He sighed and realized he already did, since he was even considering shedding his cloak. "Alright…"

Ivan undid the clasp on his coat with trembling fingers, biting his lips so hard that they might've bruised. Whether they did or didn't he wasn't sure, but the coat fell to the floor with a flopping sound, his ragged breathing and shivers filling his mind. He felt so bare, standing there in just an undershirt, the air suddenly harshly chilly.

"What am I doing…?" He left his scarf untouched, the pipe he so desperately searched for laying inside his coat, which was now on the floor. His coat was on the floor, not on his body. He was exposed, he was defenseless he was…

He was panicking.

Russia was about to snatch the coat off the floor before he heard the door open, Arthur walking out and seeing Ivan half bent over, scooping the coat off the floor. A pleased chuckle escaped the man's throat and the taller male felt instantly less self-conscious. This was Arthur. He had greeted him kindly, took him to a florist and bought him sunflowers. He had invited him over to his home; had even left Ivan to his own devices for a while whilst he was inside said home. He trusted Ivan, so why shouldn't Ivan trust Arthur in return?

He found himself folding his coat and gently laying it on the side of the couch, pipe leaned against the back of it. The tank Ivan wore was white and the scarf tickled the suddenly bare flesh of his arms, but other than that, he felt fine. What wonders friendship did for the soul.

Arthur snatched up both of the tea glasses, heading into the kitchen and filling them again. He walked by, his rose seeds secured under his arms. He looked happier than Ivan had seen him since way back when. He felt a small tug at his lips as they eased into a tiny smile.

"Got your seeds?" Russia nodded, holding up the seed packets from his pocket, his grown sunflower he laid beside his pipe. It was an odd contrast. "Alright, follow me." England walked calmly out a back door, which had been hidden behind curtains.

Ivan followed suit, the sun blinding him momentarily. He felt the cool breeze caress his skin and he shivered at the sensation. Rubbing his eyes, he heard Arthur halt and did so himself, blinking rapidly to get the small stars to remove themselves from his vision.

What he saw took his breath away.

The fenced area in front was nothing compared to what it surrounded in the back. Rows upon rows of flowers bloomed brightly; purples, blues, whites, reds, every color of the spectrum graced themselves amongst dark green leaves and vines. The dragonflies and butterflies from earlier dotted colors amongst the plants, giving the garden a sense of movement. Everything was alive, vibrant, and enchanting. Ivan felt his heart beat painfully at the sight. This was true paradise.

"England…" Russia felt his voice broke the spell of beauty that was cast on this place, but the man gave him his full attention. "Your garden is zamechatel'nyy… It is wonderful, da?" He felt that small smile grace his features once more. When had he stopped having to force the smile upon his face?

Probably when Arthur had let his face start to turn that interesting shade of crimson; the man ducked his head in embarrassment, smiling to Ivan brightly and bashfully. He let his feet scuff the ground, eyes the color of growing things turning to his work of art. His gaze softened as he watched his garden move as if it were dancing.

"Thank you very much, Ivan… it is my pride and joy after all…" With that the man walked over to an area and began to pull up smaller, less vibrant plants from the ground. Ivan watched with confusion, before England began to speak again.

"These are weeds, they don't belong here, they'll kill everything else here." He gestured over to the rest of the garden specifically the yellow and pink lilies next to him. Ivan nodded, grimly remembering himself being compared to a weed by America once or twice. "This is also where we'll plant your sunflowers. Is that alright?"

Russia forgot his dark thoughts and felt his hands shake with excitement. He was going to create life, he was going to contribute to the world, and he was going to do this with Arthur. He knelt close to the ground when the other male gestured for him to. He rolled his scarf up and tucked it in the back of his shirt, trying to not get it dirty.

"What do I do to help?" He glanced over to England, watching with fascination as he ruthlessly tore up the weeds with practiced ease. He nearly chuckled, seeing the focused look on his face was something he was used to. He always wore this face when he spoke with Alfred. Ivan briefly wondered if Arthur saw the other blonde nation as one of these weeds. The thought pleased him childishly.

Though, he was confused when the man sat back and crossed his arms.

"You can do it, I'll simply guide you. Alright… first, you'll dig a small hole here." England produced a small green spade and handed it to Ivan's still gloved hands. Ivan felt his fingers brush with Arthur's before the object was secured in his grasp, digging gently into the soil with the tool. He blinked and tried to forget the idea of touching the other man again.

"Like this?" Ivan showed him the shallow wound in the earth, Arthur nodding approvingly. Ivan's eyes widened in happiness; he had achieved something! Arthur then opened one of Ivan's sunflower packets, handing him a small seed.

"Next you'll bury this in the hole, making sure that it's far enough in there, that it'll get air, but won't get scrounged up or accidentally torn from the dirt." Nodding Ivan took the seed and brought it over the hole. He dropped the small life into the ground and was about to scrap dirt over it before he stopped himself. His smile disappeared…

It was almost as if he were burying another deceased comrade. Ivan had given burials to so many nameless men on the battlefield, only for their bodies to get swallowed up inside of the ice and snow. Those men, they had families and people who cared for them… yet they gave their lives to protect his namesake. He shook his head and covered the seed, patting the earth firmly.

These were not burials. This was tucking small children into bed so that they could grow safely and comfortably. This was assuring a good and happy life. This was a good thing, something to be associated with happiness, not sad times.

As he buried more of these little parts of him, a thought occurred. He turned to England with a solemn expression. What were his plants going to do when he had to go back home?

"England… you will take good care of these… yes?" He searched the other's eyes, biting his lip. Arthur seemed taken aback by such an intense gaze, but he answered just as seriously. He placed a hand over his heart.

"Of course I'll take good care of them… I'll make sure they grow to be strong and sturdy plants. I swear by it." Ivan nodded, smile appearing once more. He chuckled, deciding to ignore the small flinch from Arthur.

"Is very strange to me; is like England is caring for some small part of Russia, da? I will trust you with these… I will also visit often; to make sure what you are saying is true." He stood up, wiping his gloves on his pants and taking a watering can offered by Arthur. He spread the water over the bare patch of earth; it was like he was taking care of children… he enjoyed gardening as much as he thought he would.

"Well, thank you for trusting me… and for giving me an enjoyable evening."

What was with his tone of voice? Ivan's chest hurt, his heart fluttering about in its cage. If Ivan wasn't careful, it was going to fall out again. Still, it confused him. Why in the world would it want to jump out to the blonde nation beside him?

"I trust you… though I do not understand many things that have happened this day…" Ivan felt the words came easier than they should have; something like this. He took a deep breath, turning toward the smaller man and watching the sun set over the horizon. The red hue lit everything up like it was on fire, giving the garden a new sort of carnal beauty. Russia's chest hurt even more, causing him to clutch at it.

"What don't you understand?" Arthur seemed puzzled, glancing worriedly at the way Russia held his chest. The taller nation furrowed his brows and bit his lip, their eyes locking as England waited for an answer.

"I do not know why my heart tries to get to you. And I do not want to leave."


End file.
